


What the Heart Misses

by thefandomsinhalor



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Divergent, Castiel Does Not Make a Deal with The Shadow (Supernatural), Christmas, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Episode: s15e14 Last Holiday, Fluff, Gift Exchange, Let's Pretend For A Hot Second That The Empty Deal Never Happened Because Reasons, M/M, Sam Winchester Knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:21:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28308183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefandomsinhalor/pseuds/thefandomsinhalor
Summary: After learning that the Winchesters and Jack celebrated Christmas with Mrs. Butters, Castiel takes the opportunity to give Dean a Christmas present.Which then prompts Dean to reflect on the nature of their bond.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 17
Kudos: 134
Collections: Destiel Secret Santa Exchange 2020





	What the Heart Misses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mundane_into_mythology28](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mundane_into_mythology28/gifts).



> Written for [castielsbeeslippers](https://castielsbeeslippers.tumblr.com) who had requested some fluff involving Cas and bees, for the [Destiel Secret Santa Exchange 2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Destiel_Secret_Santa_Exchange_2020) on Tumblr 😊 I had fun writing this, thank you for the prompt and I wish you happy holidays!  
> Enjoy!!

“What the hell is this?”

“It’s a gift. For you.”

Dean, sipping on his morning coffee in the bunker’s kitchen, shot a suspicious glance at Castiel when his friend placed a flashy green box with a big red bow on it in front of him.

“Yeah, I got that, Cas. I mean, why are you giving me a present? It’s not Christmas or my birthday.”

“That’s true. But Jack mentioned that you celebrated the holiday the other day with Mrs. Butters. We were discussing the concept of Christmas and that got me thinking. I realized that I had never taken part in the tradition before. So, I thought of changing that even if I missed the celebration the other day.”

“That’s, um, nice.” And then, Dean immediately felt the need to add, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“And yet, I did,” he said calmly.

Unsure what to say, Dean simply nodded at him, and after gently putting down his cup, he began undoing the bow. He had to admit that he was partially curious to see what Castiel, of all people, could have possibly thought of giving him as a Christmas present.

Almost nervous about it, he was surprised, however, by the actual contents of the box.

Ties.

Three of them.

Made of soft woven silk.

And all three of them had bees depicted on them.

A golden yellow one, with honeycomb print at the bottom and a few bees near the top.

Another one that was a charcoal color, with tiny bees serving as pattern all over the tie. So small, in fact, they barely seemed like bees, which rendered the tie surprisingly classic-looking.

And one blue tie, with a few doodled bees on it.

Which was instantly Dean’s favourite.

Smiling at the corner of his mouth, after eyeing Castiel briefly, he picked up that last one to examine it closer.

It was far from being something he would have selected for himself. After all, flannel and jeans were more his style over suits to begin with, even less so the overly fashioned ties.

And yet, the fact that Castiel had apparently taken the time to choose these specifically for him could not do anything short of bringing a smile to his lips.

“Bees, huh?”

“I tried to find ones with patterns of pies, but I didn’t succeed. I thought—you don’t have to wear them if you feel they will clash with your suit. I simply wished to offer you an alternative.”

Keeping his eyes on the tie, he said, “I like them, Cas. Thank you. Can’t wait to try it on.”

And Dean had meant every word. Just over a week later, when he and Sam were sharing a quick lunch with Donna, while reviewing a possible case involving a wraith down in Rochester, Dean had made sure to tuck a napkin into his collar to not soil his blue tie with bees. Once he was done with his bacon cheese burger, which had been delicious, and wanted to study more properly the files Donna had brought them, he pushed his plate aside and freed himself of his napkin.

“Oooh, that’s a neat tie you got there, Dean,” said Donna.

Mildly grinning, he said, “I know.” He lifted his eyes from the document and added, “Cas gave it to me. I know it’s not super ‘professional-looking’ but I thought, what the hell? Why not?”

“He also kind of really likes it,” said Sam, harboring his most serious expression that Dean and everyone else knew was fake. “Like, _really_ likes it. He wore it every day this week.”

Smirking, Donna nodded. “Gotcha.”

Suddenly feeling somewhat exposed, Dean cleared his throat. “I—so? What if I did?” Then, as he fixed his tie, he added, more to himself than to the others, “Nothing wrong with that.”

“Of course there’s nothing wrong with that, Dean. I wasn’t suggesting there was. _Quite the opposite_ , actually.” Seemingly about to elaborate further on his viewpoint, Sam then turned quiet and stabbed his salad with his fork, adopting a casual attitude.

Dean frowned at his brother. His patent change of behaviour hadn’t fooled him. It was clear that Sam had more to say on the subject and Dean was now curious to hear his opinion. He let the matter go, however, when Donna received a phone call informing her that another body had been found, thus prompting the trio to abruptly end their lunch and return to work.

He came back to the topic by the evening though. With the case closed and behind them, they warmly said goodbye to Donna, and soon after they hit the road to return to the bunker, Dean asked, “Why were you giving me crap about liking my tie?”

“I wasn’t. I’m honestly glad you’re enjoying it.”

“Good. Because I am. It was really thoughtful of him to do this.”

“No argument there. I don’t want to say I’m surprised, but…yeah, I really like the book he gave me too.”

“What?” Dean glanced at him, while also carefully keeping an eye on the road. “What do you mean? What book?”

“For Christmas,” said Sam as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“He—he gave you a present too?”

“Yeah. And Jack.” Sam observed him for a moment and then, assessing Dean’s mild confusion, he asked, “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” His eyes back on the road, he fell silent for as long as he could, until he blurted out, “What kind of book? And what did he give Jack?”

“Um, he—he gave Jack a Star Wars movie collection. He’s been going through them again all week long in—”

“—in the Dean Cave,” said Dean, now understanding where the kid disappeared to in the evenings. “Good thing Mrs. B. fixed the TV.”

“Yeah.”

“And what's the book about? The one Cas gave you?”

“Notorious serial killers. It's mostly covering the ones of the past decade, but they also included the legendary ones too as a contrast.”

Dean blinked. “Wow. That’s—yeah. That’s…tell the truth: had you read it before?”

“No. It just came out a few weeks ago. And it’s really cool. I’m on the chapter about H. H. Holmes, and I gotta say, considering _our_ insight about the guy, it’s riveting.”

Amused at his brother’s weird interest, Dean shook his head. And while he had other questions regarding Sam’s opinion on Castiel’s presents, his train of thought took a turn when something else occurred to him.

Particularly once he compared the gifts.

“You okay?”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah. Just—it’s been a long day and I can’t wait to be home, that’s all.”

On the following morning, after a few not-so-restful hours of sleep, Dean got frustrated from all the tossing and turning, so he left his warm bed and hurried to the kitchen in order to get the day started.

The room was spotless, and just as he had predicted, he found Mrs. Butters already waiting for him.

“Good Morning, Dean.”

Wishing her the same, he took a seat at the table. She quickly put down a plate with a western omelette and fruits on the side, as well as a cup of freshly brewed coffee for him.

“Thank you,” he mumbled. But despite being famished, Dean froze, utensils in hands, and simply stared at his plate.

“Not hungry this morning?”

“No. I am. I—I don’t know.” He put down his fork and knife and let out a deep sigh.

“Oh, dear. Would you like a grilled cheese instead?” she asked and manifested another plate out of thin air.

“For breakfast?” he said, trying to contain his glee (and failing at it).

“Why not?” She delicately dropped the plate in front of him. “You look like you could do with some cheering up.”

“Is this your way of telling me I look like crap?” he asked her, already chewing on his sandwich, which prompted Mrs. Butters to squint at him about manners.

“I feel like a few additional hours of sleep would have done you good, yes.” She returned to the stove where a few pots and pans were sizzling. But she kept her stare on him. “Anything the matter?”

That was the question.

He didn’t want to admit it, but his conversation with Sam had bothered him. While he was delighted at the thought that Castiel had been generous with Sam and Jack as well, something that didn’t surprise Dean in the least, this revelation had forced him to re-evaluate his own present.

And the more he thought about it, the more it left him with a pit in his stomach.

What Castiel had chosen for Sam and Jack had been perfect for them. If he was honest, Dean wasn’t sure he could have done better himself. Jack had been geeking out about Star Wars since basically his fourth day on this earth, and Sam had his odd fascination about serial killers. Perfect.

And then, there was his present.

Ties with bees on it.

Not exactly something that “screamed” Dean.

And yet, for some reason, he had genuinely enjoyed the ties. He had been touched by Castiel's kindness and attention. And while ties and bees weren’t things Dean held a deep fascination for, he knew that it was, in some ways, an interest to Castiel.

And _that_ had meant something to him.

Until, that was, he learned of Sam and Jack’s presents.

Now, he felt like his gift was impersonal. Like Castiel hadn’t know what to give him, so he had picked the first thing he had thought of.

And that, above all, bothered Dean. It saddened him, even. Not that he believed himself superior to the others, but Dean, for quite some time now, had been under the impression that he might be something _else_ to Castiel.

“What’s the matter, dear?”

“Oh, um, no—nothing.” He took another bite of his tasty grilled cheese.

Mrs. Butters left her pots once more and joined him at the table, sensing his hesitation.

“Now, now. Something is troubling you. What is it?”

Shifting on his seat, he said, “Not important.”

Unsatisfied with his lie, she took his plate and the second half of the grilled cheese with it.

“Hey!”

“You will get it back as soon as you answer truthfully.” She gave him a menacing look.

Annoyed, Dean momentarily considered abandoning the rest of his grilled cheese to save himself from an awkward conversation.

But his stomach growled and he knew it was a lost battle.

“All right,” he said. “I’ll tell you. Can I have my sandwich back though? Please?”

She held her severe stare for a little longer, assessing his words, and once she judged his tone to be honest, she nodded and returned his plate to him.

“So, I have this—you know who Cas is, right?”

She nodded. “Your friendly angel. Jack’s third adoptive father.”

“Um. Yeah. I—I—him.”

“What about him?”

“Well, he—after you made Christmas happen, Cas gave me—us—Christmas presents.”

“How kind!” she said joyfully.

“Yeah.”

He swallowed hard.

“It wasn’t?”

“It’s just…I’m—I loved the gift—I’m just confused as to why he gave me this.”

“May I ask what it was?”

Dean told her.

Mrs. Butters studied him for a moment and then said, “Were you hoping for something else? Something specific in mind?”

She had said it in such a playful tone it had almost made Dean feel uncomfortable.

Transparent, one might have said.

“I wasn’t expecting anything at all. So, no. No—nothing specific.”

“But you are disappointed.”

“I—I don’t know. No. I’m just…I was happy about it because I—I thought it might have meant—but now I feel like I may have misunderstood.”

“Hmm.”

Desperate to avoid her stare, Dean returned to his grilled cheese, feeling embarrassed by the nature of the discussion.

It was too early in the morning for this.

He remained with his eyes glued to the table for a short time. Once his plate was empty, however, he had no choice but to glance at her.

“So, what are you going to do about it?” she finally asked him.

“What?”

“You say that your friend gave you a present, which you really loved, but that you are now questioning the original intent of the gift. Correct?”

He nodded, determined to not lower his eyes.

“It seems to me that you need to shed light on the situation. So, how do you suggest to go about it?”

This question brought Dean a worrisome thought. Exciting, in parts, but worrisome.

“I—I was thinking that, um, maybe—” he started saying, but the rest of his sentence died in his throat.

“Maybe what?”

“I—I was just thinking that maybe I should do the same. Maybe I should get him something.” He cleared his throat and awkwardly looked to his left, even though nothing remotely interesting was happening there. “Maybe that will, um, help clarify a few things that I—yeah.”

“That’s a wonderful idea.”

Dean let out a short laugh, feeling embarrassed more than ever, as he was deeply praying that Sam—or anyone else, really—would never hear of this conversation.

“What kind of gift were you thinking of?” she asked, utterly invested.

“I—I have no clue.”

“Do you intend to give him something practical? Something he may need?”

Dean pursed his lips. “Not really. It’s not like he really _needs_ anything…he’s an angel.”

“I see. Then, something he enjoys, perhaps? Does he have any type of hobbies?”

“Not…that I know of. He likes bees. And emoticons. And…yeah.”

After a short pause, she then said, “If Castiel doesn’t need anything material, perhaps you can offer him something else, then?”

Swallowing, Dean said, “Like what?”

“I don’t know, dear. He’s your friend. You should know what would please him. As they say, it’s the thought that counts. You are worried that you might have misunderstood something. Perhaps you didn’t. So, think back on the present he gave you and how you felt about it. A nice gesture to symbolize how you feel? That might be a step towards the right direction.”

Following Mrs. Butters’ advice, Dean took time to reflect greatly on the matter at hand. Gifts. Feelings. Meanings.

Which made him even more confused than before.

The fact was that this wasn't the first time he had given Castiel a present. He had even done so on a few occasions, actually. Just never on Christmas, and he had done so randomly and simply because he had felt like it at that moment.

Like when he had gotten him a cowboy hat in Dodge City.

And the mixtape.

Of course.

Which Dean didn’t want to dwell on too much. Even if he had meant it. And had certainly not regretted it.

But now, in this context, remembering what Mrs. Butters had told him about his intentions, he found the task rather pressuring.

The main problem was that most of everything that came to Dean’s mind that could qualify as a "nice gesture” were things that he would have no problem doing under any circumstances. Which, in his opinion, lessened the effect.

Well, _almost_ everything.

There were certain ideas that could potentially work. They would definitely make some things clear. Be that as it may, Dean wasn’t entirely sure that was the way he wanted to go at this. Mainly because he wasn’t convinced that Castiel would necessarily find it charming—for the lack of a better word—nor did Dean, for the time being, want to get ahead of himself.

One problem at a time.

From the moment the darn ideas had set into his head, however, it had been difficult to get rid of them, to the point that it had rendered him distressed.

Which was why he decided, quite beside himself, to ask Sam for help.

“So, I was thinking,” said Dean, attempting to sound casual, but inevitably failing at it, “since Cas’s been through the trouble of getting us something, maybe we should do the same.”

Sam, not lifting his eyes from his book, nodded. “Cool.”

In the hope that his brother would share a little more insight on the matter, Dean remained still, waiting for Sam to start his usual brainstorming session.

But nothing.

He simply turned the page of his book. He continued reading, sitting across the table. He didn’t say anything.

Annoyed, Dean said, “Any ideas?”

“What do you want to get him?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m talking to you right now.”

Finally looking at him, Sam said, sighing, “Dean, I’m sure Cas will be happy no matter what you give him.” When it was evident to Sam that Dean hadn’t liked his answer, he added, “You know that you don’t have to get him anything, right? It’s not an obligation.”

Shifting in his seat, Dean said, “Maybe…. maybe I want to. Maybe I—I’ve been meaning to for a while.”

Diverting his eyes, as he knew full well Sam was most undoubtedly staring at him, he waited for him to comment, perhaps tease him, even. But to Dean’s surprise—and relief—Sam did no such thing.

“Dean, if you’re getting at what I think you are—and about freaking time, by the way—I’ll help you. But I really think it ought to come from you. You know?”

Dean nodded shyly, agreeing with Sam’s point.

They remained silent for a brief moment, until Sam, taking pity on his brother, shut his book and said, “How about we go into town? I was gonna go later this afternoon for a bit of groceries anyway. You can check out a few of the local shops on Main Street. Browsing might give you some ideas.”

Dean let out a massive sigh of relief and thanked his brother.

Even though he had difficulty believing that he could find something worthy of an angel of the Lord at a local gift shop.

And his assumption turned out to be correct.

Clothing stores. Bakeries. Electronics. And so on.

None were offering him good ideas.

Some options? Yes.

But again, not the best ones. Not what Dean wanted to convey, at the very least.

Getting slightly discouraged, he was about to leave a quirky coffee shop he had stopped by for refueling, when something on display caught his eye next to the cash register.

A tiny object. An ornament. It wasn’t jewelry. Not exactly. Nor was it flashy. It was simple and effective.

And, more importantly to Dean, it held a sort of statement. Perhaps in an old kind of way. And yet, Dean liked it.

It was perfect.

And then, he spotted another item, which he believed could be complimentary. And Dean knew this was what he needed to get Castiel.

The only aspect left to figure out was when to execute the gift exchange.

Of course, Dean could have simply waited until the next time they saw each other or simply called him on his way back to the bunker.

And while that was what he ultimately did, Dean was then blessed with another idea that could make the exchange far better and less random.

But for that he needed the help of Sam, Jack and Mrs. Butters.

And so, a few hours later, after the others had agreed with his plan, he dressed up—wearing his tie, of course—called Castiel and invited him to the bunker.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes. Nothing’s wrong. We just—come by. We have something planned.”

Puzzled at the mystery, but nonetheless inclined to oblige, Castiel joined them a few hours following Dean’s call.

And witnessing Castiel’s surprised expression when he entered the bunker had been worth the effort and the wait of the first part of his plan, Dean thought.

“What’s all this?” said Castiel, pointing at the garlands on the ramp. And the Christmas lights around the ceiling. And the large tree in the middle of the war room.

“Mrs. Butters was about to move on to the next holiday, but, um, I—I was hoping we could get a redo before that. So you could enjoy it with us this time around, I mean.”

“That’s…very considerate and inclusive, as it was unnecessary,” said Castiel, nearly apologetic.

“Dean’s right,” said Sam. “Although we hadn’t planned to celebrate, it was kind of a bummer that you weren’t there when we did.”

“And then you were nice enough to offer us presents, which you really didn’t have to. So, I—we thought we could have another go at it. With you this time.”

Castiel, now at the bottom of the stairs, was staring at Dean with a warm expression. His eyes fell on his tie, and he smiled shyly.

“It won’t be an exact replica of how we celebrated the first time around—”

“Mainly because we didn’t want to seem either ungrateful and too capricious to Mrs. Butters,” said Sam, cutting his brother off.

“I would have done it properly, Samuel!” she exclaimed, sounding offended.

“Though she keeps _insisting_ she would have done it,” said Dean under his breath.

“But close enough,” said Sam firmly over his brother’s voice, wanting to put the matter to rest.

After taking another look around the room, with a genuine grin on his face, Castiel thanked them. “That’s very kind of the both of you.”

“You’re welcome,” said Sam. And as he offered him an eggnog, he added, “Just also want to let you know that, while this,” to which he gestured to the room, “was also Jack’s and Mrs. Butter’s doing, as much as mine and Dean’s, it was primarily Dean’s idea though.” And then he added in the most awkward way, “I’m gonna go check on Jack now.”

And made himself scarce.

Mrs. Butters along with him.

Thus, leaving Castiel and Dean alone.

“Is what Sam said true?” asked Castiel, taking a step towards him. “You did this?”

“It was about time we had Christmas together, no?”

Taking a deep breath, Castiel stared at him for a long time. “Again, thank you.”

“No problem. But this is just the beginning.”

“What else have you planned?”

Smiling mischievously, Dean said, “You’ll see.”

The next few hours were filled with jubilation. Mrs. Butters had them carolling, they nearly fell into a sugar coma, and participated to a gingerbread house contest, dutifully orchestrated by Mrs. Butters.

Everyone had a great time. Beaming at one another, they shared a sumptuous meal, which had been prepared by the Winchesters and Jack—not just Mrs. Butters.

They also played games afterwards. Mrs. Butters beat all of them at cards. Sam dominated in Trivia. And while Castiel and Jack failed to understand the concept of Mad Libs, they had both somehow managed to create the most hilarious and nonsensical stories Sam and Dean had ever had the pleasure to hear.

Enjoying himself as much as he was though, Dean felt jitters multiplying within his chest as the evening progressed. He caught himself staring at Castiel more times than would be deemed acceptable, and when they exchanged looks, Dean wasn’t able to do anything but beam at him.

He eagerly awaited an opportunity to give Castiel his present in private.

He almost had done so when everyone had busied themselves by bringing back the dishes to the kitchen. Pulling Castiel aside for a brief moment would have been plausible.

But not ideal.

He seriously contemplated the option to do the same when Sam went to help Jack find some additional board games that they had stashed in one of the storage rooms, but he doubted that they would be gone for very long. And sure enough, Dean had barely had the time to pour himself and everyone else another eggnog before Jack burst into the room, carrying an impressive number of boxes.

But at last, Dean got his chance during Monopoly. Despite everyone’s investment into the game, the general vibe surrounding them was of a mellow mood. So, after retiring from the game because of bankruptcy, and noting that Castiel was soon going to suffer the same fate, Dean momentarily left the room to fetch his present.

He had carefully left it on his bedroom’s desk.

Biting his bottom lip, he stared at the small red box. He pondered one last time on his choice. 

It was a common enough item, like the ties.

And like the ties, to him, it meant something.

And more than anything, Dean couldn’t wait to see what Castiel would think of it.

The anxiety rose within him.

He was satisfied with his choice.

And there was now only one thing left to do.

Dean needed not venture too far though. Just as he exited his room, Castiel turned the corner in the hallway.

“Hey.”

“Hello, Dean.”

“Sam and Jack got the better of you too, huh?”

Castiel came to a halt once he had reached him.

“It appears that I lack financial skills.”

“It happens to the best of us,” said Dean, smirking. But after noticing a hint of uneasiness in Castiel’s eyes, he said calmly, “Everything okay?”

“More than okay. I really enjoyed the evening, thank you.”

“Awesome. I’m glad, Cas.”

“I simply wanted to let you know before you decided to turn in.”

“Oh,” said Dean, glancing behind him. “I wasn’t. Not yet, anyway.” And then at Castiel’s mild perplexity, he added, “I—I actually came to get this.”

He retrieved the little box from his pocket where he had stashed it moments ago, took a look in the hallway, wanting to be sure no one else was seemingly listening, and presented it to Castiel.

“It’s for you. Merry Christmas.”

As his eyes fell on the present, Castiel seemed genuinely surprised by this.

“You didn’t have to do this. The evening was wonderful, I told you.”

“You got me something. I wanted to do the same.” He slightly lifted his hand to incite Castiel to take possession of it.

Which he did, right after returning a warm smile at Dean.

He observed the box for a second, almost as though he was trying to guess what was in it, and began pulling on the thin string.

“Oh, just—before you open it, can I ask a question?”

Castiel stopped and nodded.

“Why did you give me ties? I love them,” he added promptly. “I just—why?”

“Why do you ask?”

After a short hesitation, but determined to be honest, he said, “I heard about what you gave Sam and Jack. I was just curious how you came to decide on that.”

Castiel nodded once more, now understanding Dean’s question.

“Well, the truth is that it was very difficult to find something for you.”

“How so?”

“There are many things that you enjoy, such as alcohol, food, car related items, pornographic magazines,” to which Dean lowered his eyes for a moment, “firearms and so on. I could have given you any of these things, but I deduced that some were…too practical? Or—most definitions of ‘gift’ in dictionaries suggest that it is simply the act of giving something _willingly_ and _freely_. Almost none speak of the _emotional_ intent of said act, which I thought was unfortunate. I was under the impression that the intention behind a gift mattered more than the gift itself or the very action of giving.”

Shifting on his feet, Dean said in an even voice, as much as he could master, “So, why the ties?”

“I—I was trying to mirror the cassette tape you had given me.”

This was not the answer Dean had expected.

But he liked the way it was going.

“How do you figure that?”

“Rock music is something you adore. You had wanted me to have something you enjoyed. I saw it as something you wanted to share. And it always reminded me of you when I listened to it.”

And with that, Dean knew he had picked the right present.

“Was I wrong in my assessment?” asked Castiel.

And Dean shook his head, feeling his chest swell with fuzzy feelings.

“I know it isn’t the same,” continued Castiel, “but it was more or less what I was trying to convey with the ties. I cannot always be hunting with you as much as I’d wish, but I figured, that way, the ties might remind you of me.”

Dean swallowed hard before saying, “I don’t need the ties for that. You know that, right?”

After exchanging a deep, lingering look, Castiel gave him a shy nod. Feeling the awkwardness rising between them, despite being appeased by Dean’s words, he then finally took it upon himself to open his present.

He momentarily froze, staring at it after the reveal.

It was two small, delicate pins.

A tiny golden bee.

And a colorful piece of pie.

Castiel stared at Dean, stunned, which rendered the task of holding down his grin very difficult for Dean.

“So, the idea was that this one was intended for you, and I—may I?” asked Dean, as he stepped closer.

Castiel nodded.

Taking hold of the golden bee pin, he said, “I didn’t exactly mean to go all fifties with this, but I—I don’t know, I liked it and thought you might as well.”

“I do like it,” he said earnestly.

Glad, Dean took a deep breath and with a short nod at his upper chest, he silently asked Castiel if he wished to wear it now.

Castiel stepped forward.

As Dean delicately pinned the golden bee on Castiel’s jacket collar lapel, he heard him say softly, “Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“When you say ‘going all fifties,’ are you referring to courtsh—what did you mean?”

Done with his task, Dean gently pressed on the pin to make sure it was safely attached, and stepped back. And met Castiel’s eyes.

“It’s as you thought. That’s why I got another one. That one is for me.”

He processed what Dean had just told him, and as he was reaching out for him, Castiel began saying, “Dean, I—I want—”

Unfortunately, something interrupted him. A loud horn was heard, making them both jump. Unfamiliar with the new alarm, Castiel questioningly frowned at Dean. Amused at his confusion, Dean explained, as loudly as he could over the horn, “Mrs. B.” and “Monster radar.”

Which only brought Castiel additional questions.

The moment the racket was over, before Dean even had time to utter another word, Sam, coming from down the hall, called for them with a sense of urgency in his voice. Castiel turned himself in that direction, while remaining at Dean’s side.

With their shoulders touching.

When Sam finally appeared before them, he said, “So—sorry, I’m sorry. I hope I—I didn’t mean to barge in—”

“It’s fine,” Dean told him. “What’s up?”

“Rugarus. Almost half a dozen of them in Concordia according to the radar.”

“Awesome.”

“I know it’s late and that you—but I don’t think we can wait any longer. And I—I’d go with Jack, but he has to stay hidden because—”

But Dean cut him off. “It’s okay, Sam. No worries. We’ll be there in a minute.”

Sam gave them both an apologetic nod and turned on his heels, eager to leave them be.

Once he was sure that his brother was out of earshot, Dean refocused his attention to Castiel. “What were you going to say?”

“It can wait. Duty calls.” His tone hadn’t been grim. Or even with a hint of disappointment. Simply as a matter of fact.

But he stayed put, facing Dean, with no effort to leave.

“You’re right,” said Dean. “It can wait. There’s just one—a couple of things—I’d like to cover before we join Sam though.” He lowered his eyes to the box Castiel was still holding.

Letting out a faint laugh, Castiel said, “I’ll put it on you right now if that’s what you want. But considering where we are heading, shouldn’t we wait? I don’t want you to lose it. Maybe I should even keep this one safe.”

He lifted his hand to reach for his pin, but Dean stopped him. Holding his hand, he said, “Don’t worry about that, it will stay on.”

“Aren’t these fragile? I told you, I don’t want to break it or lose it.”

“You won’t. I took care of that. I—Mrs. B. helped me. She—just trust me, the only way this is getting off your coat is because you, and no one else, will it.”

Smiling back at him, Castiel said, “Then you are right. It shall stay on.” And he lifted the box and installed Dean’s pin in turn. “Happy?”

“Very.”

There was a short pause, during which they studied each other's expressions. Taking in the moment. Until Castiel said, “Dean? Will you let me know when you'll celebrate the next holiday? I’d like to be there.”

Giving his hand a squeeze, he said, “No way we are doing this without you. I’m looking forward to experiencing the rest of them with you.” And knowing that Sam was waiting, he said, “Just one last little thing before we end this one though.”

“What’s that?”

And Dean, slowly leaning in, breathed, “A kiss.”

And he was granted his wish.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!I had fun writing this for the [Destiel Secret Santa Exchange 2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Destiel_Secret_Santa_Exchange_2020)  
> Thank you  
> [castielsbeeslippers](https://castielsbeeslippers.tumblr.com) for the inspiration. I hope you enjoyed it!  
> As always, infinite thank you to [Danica](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danica_Dust/pseuds/Danica_Dust) and Landrala who are so amazing and helpful 💜💙💜💙  
> And finally, but not the least, I wish everyone happy holidays and I hope everyone is well and safe ❤️
> 
> (I'm on [Tumblr](https://thefandomsinhalor.tumblr.com) if you wish to say hello 😊)


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